


Happy Holidays

by Scientia_Fantasia



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, disgustingly sweet in their own little way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 20:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13220493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scientia_Fantasia/pseuds/Scientia_Fantasia
Summary: Marcus brings up holiday plans, or: Wrench Doesn't Celebrate Christmas, What Happens Next May Surprise You





	Happy Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> it's still the holidays, okay,

Marcus didn’t  _know_  Wrench would be there so much as had a hunch that he would, but there was an affectionate sort of satisfaction in finding he was right. The garage door rattled up to the ceiling to reveal Wrench standing in front of his workbench like he always was, transfixed by his newest project. Marcus invited himself in, announcing himself with a “Hey, Wrench,” and slipping into his personal space, leaning on the table not  _quite_  near enough to interrupt his work.

Wrench looked up anyways, mask smiling, which had no business making Marcus’ heart do the little jump it did.

“Hey Babe,” he responded, leaning forward so their faces were inches away and saying  _“Mwah”_  before turning back to his work. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He was glad Wrench was turned away so he didn’t see Marcus’ entry to the ‘dopiest smile in existence’ contest. “Just stopping by. What’re you working on?”

“You mean you can’t  _tell?”_   he gasped, dramatically placing a hand to his chest. Marcus raised an eyebrow at the utterly generic mess of wiring and circuit boards strewn about the table. The mask winked at him, but offered no further explanation. Which--alright, he’d caught Wrench at a bad time for conversation. He stepped over to the chair at the end of the table and took a seat, pulling out his phone to amuse himself until Wrench found a suitable stopping point.

“Hey,” he said, after glancing over his messages, “Me’n Sitara are going out drinking Christmas Eve. You wanna get in on that?”

“Uhhh...” He tapped his wire strippers against the table, mask displaying a frustrated greater-than/less-than emoticon. “Nah. I’m not really a Christmas kinda’ guy.”

“Whaat? C’mon, how can you not like Christmas?”

Wrench threw him a side-eye, and Marcus put his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright. No Christmas.” He glanced back down at his phone, only to twirl it in his hand a couple of times, distracted. “D’you...wanna talk about it?”

“ _Uuuuuuggghhhhh_ ,” went Wrench, throwing his head back. But before Marcus could apologize and back off, Wrench walked over and knelt at his feet, taking one of his hands in both of his. “Marcus,” he said, mask displaying saddened slashes as his voice turned suddenly serious. “There’s--there’s something you should know about my family. About  _me_.”

Marcus...didn’t trust this. It felt like the setup to a joke. But the small chance of Wrench actually talking about himself outweighed that possibility, so he kept his expression  _mostly_  neutral, only turning his head  _slightly_  to the side in doubt.

“I’m...” he gripped Marcus’ hand tighter, hanging his head for a long moment before looking up again with semicolons of grief. “I’m  _Jewish._ ”

Silence.

Then the mask smiled, and winked, and Wrench jumped up to go back to his work, cheerful as ever.

“Tsk,” went Marcus, narrowing his eyes at him. “...really?”

“What, is that so  _haaard_  to believe?” he goaded, pointing a screwdriver at him.

“That you’re Jewish? No. That you’re not fucking with me right now? Yeah, extremely.”

“Nope, no fucking. That’s not until later.” Obligatory wink. “But,” he began, with a casual sincerity that was much more believable coming from Wrench, “yes, I’m Jewish. I’m not particularly observant,  _surprise_ , but if I did observe anything--” a sing-song note entered his voice, “--it  _wou_ ldn’t be  _Chriiist-maaas_.”

“Alright, alright,” said Marcus, grinning. “Could we...do something for Hanukkah, then? Seems only fair.”

Wrench fiddled with things on the table, attention obviously somewhere else. “I dunno,” he said, the softness of his voice betraying what the X’s on his mask did not. “I haven’t celebrated in a while. But...I guess we could do  _something_. Stop by the donut shop, have a few drinks...light some candles.” He lifted his head and looked around the garage for... _something,_  mask flashing disappointed V’s when he, evidently, didn’t find it. “Maybe not light candles. But...the other stuff.”

“Hey, I’m always up for donuts and drinking. Especially with you.”

Wrench tilted his head towards him in an affectionately teasing manner, the mask flashing a set of hearts for a split second. “Only problem is,” he continued, reaching into his pocket for his phone--and then, upon not finding it, looking around the immediate area--“Hanukkah might...already...be...” he found it, and held it up triumphantly. “Aha! Uh,  _over_. Let’s see.” He looked it up, mask going blank in the meantime. And then--“Are you  _fucking_  kidding me.”

“What? Already over?”

“No, it-- _ugh_. Fine, I guess I’ll go with you on your stupid Christmas Eve binge.” He turned his phone to face Marcus, as much as he could read it from where he was sitting. “ _Sundown_ ,” he said, mask displaying two thin lines, “December  _twenty-fourth_.” He put his hands up, eyes going wide as if the holiday had fallen on those dates to spite him, personally.

Marcus laughed, though he admittedly didn’t find the coincidence as offensive as Wrench seemed to. “That’s good though, right? We can all celebrate together.”

Wrench looked towards the ceiling, tilting his head. “Y’know,” he said, uncharacteristically thoughtful. “I hate that idea a lot less than I thought I would.”

Marcus hoped for further explanation. It never came. “So...Christmas drinks and Hanukkah donuts on the 24th, then?”

“ _I_   _guess_ ,” he mock-complained.

The mask kept its default expression as Wrench let out a huff of air, but Marcus knew better.

He could tell he was smiling.


End file.
